


i’ll put down my roots when i’m dead

by foolishclown



Series: power and control [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, GHOST BOYS, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Good Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insane Wilbur Soot, M/M, Ouch, Past Character Death, Past Suicide, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Wilbur Soot, Sequel, Suicide, Trauma, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, or don’t i don’t control u it may make sense, part two to my work powerless, pls read rhat before or this will make no sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishclown/pseuds/foolishclown
Summary: Schlatt and Wilbur are dead.Together.——————sequel to my past work powerless!! :)
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Series: power and control [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056029
Comments: 167
Kudos: 421





	1. ghosting

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY BOYS!!! welcome to the new era!!!
> 
> as ALWAYS here are ur TWs: past suicide, lots of talk of that, ptsd, general Uh Ohness about their relationship because it’s not GREAT. mentions of torture and bad stuff

The first thing Schlatt remembered was cold. In his chest, in his fingers, crawling up his arms.

Such a stark difference from the fire that had engulfed him such a short time ago. It still stung his skin, a weak flame; but left him empty and frozen on the inside. 

Wilbur.

All he could see was _Wilbur_.

He felt his desperate arms around him, his weak voice in his ear, echoing over and over. 

_“Goodbye_.” 

Where was he?

Where was Wilbur?

He needed Wilbur. He wasn’t sure for what, but he knew he needed him. Wilbur filled his head, all his senses, engulfed him entirely. His last memory replayed over and over, his thoughts scrambled and fuzzy. Where was he, anyway? This didn’t look like Manburg. It must have been Pogtopia land. 

Those thoughts felt foreign to him. He struggled to grasp his own knowledge, the memories faded and strange. Pogtopia? Manburg? What did those words mean? Who was he anymore? Schlatt? That couldn’t be right. 

_It doesn’t matter,_ he told himself. _Just find Wilbur. Find him._

He desperately tried, but it was hard to move. He felt weightless, yet so _so_ heavy. His steps didn’t quite meet the ground, feet never all the way to the grass. It didn’t make any sense, but he tried to ignore it, swallowed it down, keeping his eyes ahead, searching for any sign of _him_. 

A smoke trail caught his attention. Curiously, he followed it, growing stronger as he got closer. 

And there he was. 

Wilbur. Right in front of him. Floating, like him, eyes unfocused and smoke coming from what looked like his finger tips. 

Anger coursed through his blood, replacing the hazy confusion. 

“Wilbur.” 

Empty eyes met his, head turning fast enough to give himself whiplash.

“Schlatt?” 

Wilbur... smiled at him. No intent, no malice. He just smiled. 

“Oh, thank god—I was starting to think no one else was here, I-I couldn’t find anyone,I was actually just looking for-“ 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Wilbur stilled, smile dropping. 

“What... do you mean?” 

He sounded... genuinely confused. Schlatt couldn’t wrap his head around the tone. Why was he looking at him like that? 

“After what you did? You’re acting like this? Like we’re just casual friends? _Like you didn’t do this to me?”_ The last part came out strangled, his voice cracking and failing him, emotion seeping through. 

Wilbur just stared ahead, no recognition in his eyes. “Schlatt... I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I-I don’t know... what I did, but I’m sorry. If I... told you something... weird, I’m sorry, it wasn’t on purpose. Or-or if Techno told you, or something, I told him not to-“

“What are you talking about?” 

A blush creeped over his sickly pale cheeks as he glanced away. He wrung his hands, unable to meet Schlatt’s intense gaze. 

“I... about my, you know. My... crush?” 

Schlatt felt like he was thirteen again; it was like they were gossiping in a treehouse or something, as if Wilbur hadn’t just fuckin’ kidnapped and murdered him. 

“Your... crush. On... me, I assume?” 

Wilbur nodded slowly, looking over just enough to get a read on his face. 

“Yeah. I don’t want to be weird or anything, I-I just, you know, I was gonna tell you of course, I just couldn’t find the right time-“

Distantly, Schlatt could hear him continue to ramble—but it didn’t cut through to him. His hearing went out, vision tunneling as he felt himself practically crumple to the ground. He nearly went through it, hands barely able to touch anything. A cold, alarmingly gentle hand touched his shoulder. 

“Schlatt? Are—are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m so sorry.” 

A bitter laugh escaped him, shutting his eyes tight. After a long pause, he summoned all the strength left in him. 

“You didn’t... upset me, Wil. Promise.” 

Wilbur didn’t seem convinced, crouching down to be at a more level height. 

“Are you sure? We can forget the whole thing. I don’t know- don’t know how we got... here, or why it’s so cold, but, we can figure it out- together!” 

It took everything in him to choke back the sob in his throat. He looked up, eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. This couldn’t be real. Wilbur _must_ have been fucking with him. 

“We’re dead. That’s why we’re here. _That’s_ why we’re cold. We _died_ , Wil.” 

Wilbur was still for a moment, eyes far away and face blank. Schlatt readjusted himself so he was upright, staring ahead in anticipation for the response. 

“Oh.”

Unbelievable.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? Fucking ‘ _oh_ ’?” 

Wilbur blinked, eyes focusing to meet the harsh gaze. His left eye twitched ever so slightly, a deep frown forming. 

“How did we die, Schlatt?”

What was he _supposed_ to say?

Oh, nothing much. You kidnapped me, stabbed me, fucked me, held me hostage for a while, then murdered me. No big deal. Feel free to just let it go, forget all about it. 

“I don’t know.” 

The frown lessened only slightly. His pale hands drummed his leg, tiny rhythms forming. “Okay... well. I’m sure we could... figure it out... I-I guess. I don’t know.” 

Wilbur continued to fidget, his anxiety clearly growing. Schlatt noticed how his body involuntarily twitched, jerking like it was painful.

Panic creeped up into Schlatt. Every jerk, every little movement of Wilbur put him on edge—he was a ticking time bomb, and Schlatt was pretty sure he couldn’t take a second one. 

By instinct, he took a deep breath, realizing with a deep ache that he didn’t need to anymore. Still—it felt good, felt _human_. 

With a painful familiarity, he could have sworn he felt the ground shake under them. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s fine. We’re fine.” 

Schlatt didn’t even believe his own words. It was such obvious bullshit, but he couldn’t even lie convincingly. This was terrible. This could _not_ be worse. 

“Okay... yeah. Of course. If you say so.” 

They were both silent, completely still in their spots. The sun was setting, Schlatt noticed. He dimly wondered what day it was. How long had it been? How long ago did they die?

  
In a pitiful attempt, he looked up to the sky, wondering if any god could answer him. Well... he did ask to die before, and that clearly worked out, so maybe they’d be kind enough to held him out a second time. 

No answer came. Birds sang, small creatures ran through bushes playfully, causing leaves to crunch underneath them. Everything was still alive. The world had moved on. 

Without them.

Wilbur moved to sit next to Schlatt, pulling his sweater sleeves over his hands. The ground stilled, the trees quit their violent shaking. 

“I’m sorry, Schlatt.” 

The wind blew cold, passing right through the pair. 

“Yeah. Me too.” 


	2. moonlit flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun had gone down long ago; the sky dark, cloudless, and illuminated by endless stars. The moon was full, shining soft light onto the two men.
> 
> Schlatt hadn’t said a word in nearly an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tws for this chapter i think? let me know if you think it needs one
> 
> enjoy the sad ghost men:)

The sun had gone down long ago; the sky dark, cloudless, and illuminated by endless stars. The moon was full, shining soft light onto the two men. 

Schlatt hadn’t said a word in nearly an hour. Wilbur would occasionally speak up, offering small talk about the world around them, or about his brothers. 

When he received no response, he would just frown, tug on his sleeve, and look away. He wished he knew what Schlatt was thinking. He looked so... sad, Wilbur thought.

He knew they weren’t close, of course, so he was hesitant to ask. Schlatt was his kind-of political opponent, he had beat him in the election, which did leave Wilbur a bit touchy for a while, but... despite the bad terms, Wilbur had developed a... crush, you could say. Slowly, then all at once. Schlatt always looked more than beautiful to him, but in the dim lighting, messy brown hair falling everywhere, Wilbur swore he looked ethereal. 

Wilbur wished he had told him that when they were alive. 

Five more minutes of silence passed. The distant howl of a wolf echoed through the valley. 

“Hey... Schlatt?” 

Silence. 

“Do you... do you think they’re looking for us?” 

Empty brown eyes met his, no emotion behind them. 

“No.” 

Wilbur felt relief rush through him at the response. _He was talking._

“Why?” 

Schlatt held the gaze, expression unreadable. 

“They know we’re dead.” 

Wilbur made a face, squinting. “How?” 

After another long silence, Schlatt turned away from him, ringing his hands together. He looked up to the night sky, distantly wondering how many times he had seen this one star, the bright one that hung right above them. 

He wondered what star he saw last, before... before...

“Do you really want to know?”

If he was honest... Wilbur wasn’t sure. _Did_ he want to know? Schlatt was acting like it was something terrible... would it be _better_ not to know? 

After an internal battle, Wilbur shifted his gaze away, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“No. I guess not.” 

Unable to help himself, Schlatt laughed, quiet and bitter. Wilbur, fucking _Wilbur_ , got to go on blissfully unaware, having no idea what he did. What he did to _Schlatt_. All the pain, all the blood, all the misery. 

Something in the back of his mind burned, a thought trying to push through. His stomach turned, nausea rising in him. His hands shook, panic slowly seeping in. He was stuck. He was stuck with Wilbur. After everything—he was still _stuck_. He had never really escaped that basement. 

The universe was so endlessly cruel. 

“Are you okay, Schlatt?” 

What a pitiful question. God, what the fuck was he going to do? What could he possibly say, what _could_ he even do? 

His entire body hurt, phantom pains all over.

“We’re fucking dead, Wilbur. I’m not great.” 

Wilbur frowned, rocking back and forth slightly. “But... I mean, we are, but it could be worse! We’re still here, right? Even if we’re ghosts, we’re still home! We could go find our friends!” 

Schlatt felt the panic mix with agitation, swallowing hard. Why was Wilbur _so_ fucking positive? He honestly missed batshit insane Wilbur, at least he could understand him like that.

“What if they can’t see us? What if they don’t _want_ to see...” Schlatt paused, considering his wording, “...us?” 

Wilbur hummed, fidgeting again. He offered a painfully cheery smile to Schlatt. “Well, the only way to find out is to try!” 

After a moment of consideration, Schlatt stood, facing away from Wilbur. Without a word, he started to walk towards the town, not bothering to check if Wilbur was following. 

Of course, he was, keeping pace so that he was just a step behind Schlatt. He curiously inspected the nature around them as they walked, admiring the mushrooms that glowed ever so slightly, stopping to pick the occasional flower. Wilbur had forgotten how beautiful the forest was. He felt like a kid again, everything new and intriguing. 

He tried to recall his last memories. It was such a haze. He knew Schlatt was there. He remembered screaming, someone hitting him. Was it Schlatt? It couldn’t be. Why would Schlatt be hitting him? Sure, they weren’t friends, but they had never really fought. 

It became too difficult, too fuzzy— so he brushed it off, okay with not knowing— for now. He intended to ask Schlatt more, but he figured he wouldn’t tell him... maybe he’d ask Techno. Yeah, Techno would help, he always did! 

Wilbur smiled to himself, happy with his plans. Before he knew it, they had arrived, the town brightly lit by lanterns. The streets were empty, buildings abandoned for the night. Schlatt stilled, unmoving as he stared blankly ahead, the lanterns reflecting in his eyes. 

Stopping beside him, Wilbur raised his eyebrows. “Schlatt? Do you want to go find someone now?” 

A tear fell from the shorter man’s eye, his jaw clenched. Wilbur stared, mouth open in surprise. 

“Oh. Are you... are you okay?” 

Schlatt didn’t respond, more tears spilling out. He glanced around the town, a sad smile on his face. He hadn’t seen Manburg in so, _so_ long. God, it _hurt._ His heart ached, unbeating, frozen in time in his cold chest. Finally, he met the concerned gaze.

“I need to find Techno.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listened to sad music writing this so it may be a bit too artsy compared to my usual HKFHjdks


	3. visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They strode through the empty city, shadows cast from the dim lights. Schlatt had his arms wrapped around himself, jaw set. 
> 
> Wilbur couldn’t help but stare, glancing away when Schlatt dared to meet his eyes. He was so confused. He didn’t know why Schlatt was so upset with him, and he hated it. It sent aches through him, a deep longing for something he didn’t understand in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OUCH ouch this kinda hurt anyway no real tws for this one just the usual death/light gore/past suicide/death references ok have funnnn

They strode through the empty city, shadows cast from the dim lights. Schlatt had his arms wrapped around himself, jaw set. 

Wilbur couldn’t help but stare, glancing away when Schlatt dared to meet his eyes. He was so _confused_. He didn’t know why Schlatt was so upset with him, and he hated it. It sent aches through him, a deep longing for something he didn’t quite understand in his stomach. 

After a few minutes of silence, Schlatt stilled, unwrapping his arms. 

“Do you really think he’s at the house?” 

Wilbur nodded, pausing to stand beside the shorter man. “Yeah. I do. Well—he’s either there, or the mines. Or... actually... he _may_ be harder to find than I thought.” 

Schlatt covered his eyes with his hands, wishing he would suddenly wake up from this bullshit nightmare. 

He paused, his mind racing, none of the thoughts clear enough to grasp. 

“Okay. Okay. I... I actually have an idea of where he may be.” 

Wilbur nodded slowly, giving his best concentration face. “Okay. Where?” 

“Hard to explain. Just... follow me. I think I know where it is.” 

Honestly, he had no idea where it was. 

Thus, an hour of wandering later, they finally stumbled into it: the ‘middle ground’, the base that Tommy and Tubbo had led Schlatt to. 

Stepping up to the looming structure, Schlatt felt his throat constrict, jolts of electricity through his chest. Shit. Oh, _god_.

He moved his shaking hand to his stomach. That blood wasn’t there a minute ago. Oh, _fuck—_ there was so much, what was _wrong_ with him? Crimson liquid covered him, head to toe, from various phantom injuries. His vision was spotty, his throat ached. He was so cold, so, _so_ _fucking_ _cold_. 

“Schlatt?” 

A concerned, quiet voice rang through his ears. It hurt worse than the wounds ever did. Wilbur stared at him, genuine worry evident. 

It _infuriated_ Schlatt. He didn’t deserve this. Wilbur didn’t deserve the fucking bliss of not knowing. He would never know what he did to him. It was so _unfair_. 

His entire body shook, but he didn’t know if it was from anger or terror anymore. 

“Let’s go.” 

Without pause, Schlatt continued forward, pushing open the door with ease. He was faintly surprised he could do that, being a ghost and all. But, somehow, he was corporeal enough to touch objects. He wondered if he could touch... living things. Mentally, he made a note to test that theory. 

The building was unlit, quiet and empty. Schlatt felt his heart drop. He must have been wrong. 

Wilbur whistled quietly, looking around the unlit room. “Wow. This is... big. Also, really dark.” 

Perfect timing, as always. What a way with words he had. 

“He’s not here. Shit. I... shit, I was wrong. I really thought he would be here.” 

Wilbur raised his eyebrows, face barely visible. “Why?” 

Dust settled, the moonlight shining through the open door, the only thing illuminating the pair.

“I don’t... know.” 

He was telling the truth. He tried to make sense of it, to understand why he just _felt_ like he would be here... but it was fuzzy, lost in the violent, confusing sea of his mind. 

“Let’s just go, Wilbur.” 

He turned, starting to exit. Wilbur lingered a moment longer. This room... was unsettling. Why did he remember it? He had never been here before. But... he had seen this floor before, had seen these walls. Phantom hands clawed at his arms, past scratches on his body, someone kicking and fighting him. Why did it still hurt? 

Still, he listened, not wanting to lose Schlatt. He followed behind, less enthusiastically now. He felt like the earth was pulling him down, a heavy weight on his shoulders. Why did his head hurt _so bad?_

They made their way back through the forest, no obvious plan. Schlatt was staring at the ground, eyes unfocused. Wilbur wished he would talk to him. He hated how sad he looked, face contorted into a constant frown. 

The nearby sound of crossbow being drawn back alerted them both, Wilbur before Schlatt. A figure stood a few feet away from them, the darkness of the dark oak forest obscuring their features. 

“Stay still.” 

They did just that, Wilbur raising his hands slightly. The looming danger of a person took a few steps closer, coming out of the shadows. An eerily familiar pink-haired man stood, impossibly dark bags under his eyes. Sheesh, Wilbur thought he looked bad being actually dead and all, but Techno looked more like a corpse than him. 

“Techno?” Schlatt spoke up, voice breaking, eyes wide. 

The crossbow was lowered. None of them moved, silence falling over the trio. 

_ “What the fuck?”  _

Techno visibly shook, something neither Wilbur nor Schlatt had ever seen. Besides the bags under his eyes, he looked terrible, cape shredded, hair tangled and wild, bruises and cuts littering his body. There was a particularly nasty cut across his face, right over his nose. Wilbur wondered if he had always looked so frail; he couldn’t recall. 

“No. No, no, _no_. You’re _dead_. You’re _both_ dead. Stop it, don’t... don’t show me this shit, okay? Not again. Don’t do this again.” 

Schlatt just stared ahead, taking a cautious step forward. “Techno. I know this is... probably alarming, but—we’re real. Seriously. I know... I-I know we died. We aren’t alive. But we’re here. We’re still here.” 

Wilbur nodded, giving two thumbs up. “We’re ghosts now!” 

Resisting the urge to turn around and snap his pale neck, Schlatt just clenched his teeth, not taking his eyes off Techno. 

The tension was... indescribable. Techno just stood there for a moment, voice and mind failing him. This _couldn’t_ be happening. 

“This... you... you can’t be real. You can’t be. Don’t try to trick me. It’s not going to work.” He raised the crossbow back up, unable to hide the fear that rose in him, nausea stirring in his empty stomach. 

Schlatt shook his head, unsure how to convince the—rightfully—terrified man. 

“I promise this isn’t a trick. It’s actually us, it’s actually me,” An idea wormed its way into his head, eyes lighting up. “I can answer any questions you have, I promise, anything that only I would know.”

Techno held his stance for a moment, trying to come up with anything useful. 

“What did I say to you? What was the last thing I said? When I saw you in that forest, when you were...” He didn’t finish his sentence, unsure of how to even phrase ‘second death’. He also really, _really_ didn’t want to explain how he could see him—that was for another time. 

“You... you said you were coming. You said to... to hold out, to wait on you.” Schlatt had to wrack his memories, desperately grasping at the blurry images. God, he really hoped that was the right answer. 

Techno lowered the crossbow for a second time, eyes filled with emotion; something Schlatt had never, _ever_ seen in him. It was a little bit terrifying, if he was honest.

The pink-haired man took a step forward, now close enough to see Schlatt’s face clearly. Nothing made sense to him, and he _hated_ being this confused. This must have been some really, _really_ fucked up dream. 

Dream or not... they were right in front of him. 

They were all silent for a moment. Techno put away his weapon, turning to face the pair of eyes that were boring into him. 

A shaky hand grabbed onto a nearly translucent one. Schlatt nearly jumped—Techno was... touching someone. Touching _Schlatt_. Holding his hand. Willingly. 

“I’m so, so sorry.” 


	4. empty stares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A yellow sweater sleeve stuck in-between them. 
> 
> “Hi. Not sure what is going on here, but you were quiet for, like, two full minutes... so, uh... what’s up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im kind of sick right now and also Bad Mental Health so if this is shorter or not as good i apologize hfkfjsj
> 
> also no real tws just the same stuff and slight mentions to abuse and stuff

A yellow sweater sleeve stuck in-between them. 

“Hi. Not sure what is going on here, but you were quiet for, like, two full minutes... so, uh... what’s up?”

Schlatt sighed. Wilbur was... _really_ something else. Techno cleared his throat, pushing aside the emotions that threatened to spill out of him, trying to keep his voice steady. 

He turned to face Wilbur. The intense stare caused the taller man to jump, removing his hand quickly; as if he was shocked.

“Are you fucking happy, Wilbur? Are you happy with what you did?” Techno’s fangs bared as he spoke. The blood splatters covering him _definitely_ intensified the look. 

Wilbur rocked back and forth on his feet, taking a nervous step back. “Oh. Uh... I don’t... really know what you mean.” 

Schlatt stared at Techno with an empathetic look. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again, summoning the words with some difficulty. 

“He doesn’t... he doesn’t remember, Techno. He doesn’t know what happened.” 

Techno went deadly still. He didn’t take his eyes off Wilbur. Schlatt could swear the pink-haired man stopped breathing. 

There was no response. Wilbur felt both pairs of eyes on him, boring through him. He _hated_ this; hated how everyone was acting, so mysterious and angry about some _stupid_ secret.

“What did I do, Techno? Tell me. _Please_.” 

His brother remained silent. The moonlight illuminated all of them through the trees, just enough light to reveal the slight glimmer of emotion in the usually empty eyes. 

Schlatt squeezed Techno’s hand, catching his attention. They locked eyes, finally. Schlatt shook his head, trying his best to silently communicate his desperation.

Techno opened his mouth, but no words came out. The silence was painful, sending strange shudders through Wilbur. He shouldn’t be shaking this much. Why did he feel _so_ guilty? 

“Let’s go... let’s go to my house.” 

The tension broke, cracking like thin ice. Schlatt nodded, relief flooding him. He knew he couldn’t push this away forever—but he sure could try. 

Wilbur felt his stomach twist, turning painfully. The two men stared right at each other, paying no mind to him. He had never felt so pathetically alone before. 

The pair took off, Schlatt trailing closely behind Techno, leaving Wilbur no choice but to follow. 

They walked in silence, arriving at Techno’s—alarmingly well hidden—house. Wilbur had never _really_ seen it... They weren’t exactly close anymore, not after Techno moved out. They just kind of... drifted away from each other. 

That’s another regret to add to his list. 

Schlatt noticed Techno was limping, occasionally wincing or making a face when he stepped too hard. He didn’t want to ask what happened, but— _damn_ did he look fucked up. 

“I-I... I’m not entirely sure... what to do, or say here,” The pink-haired man admitted, leaning over his table, shaky arms resting on the wood. “I... I...” He glanced away from them, eyes unfocused. If he had something else to say, he seemed to forget it, mouth closing. 

Schlatt was sympathetic. Yeah, he _definitely_ understood how that felt. Nothing could have prepared him for how... god, how could he even describe this situation? Weird? Terrifying? Heart breaking? Stupid? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Schlatt’s voice echoed in the rather large house, Wilbur standing right beside him. The tall man’s presence—especially so close—made him... uneasy. 

Techno let out a small sigh, pushing himself up. He unbuttoned his cloak, removing it to drape it over a chair, rolling up his sleeves. Schlatt couldn’t help but notice how messed up even just his forearms were; covered in cuts, and bruises, and blood—probably not just his. There was a particularly alarming cut on his left arm, huge and still bleeding. It almost looked like a Q.  


“What...happened... to you?” Wilbur spoke up, wishing he had something to hide himself in, even just a jacket. He felt far too open, far too exposed. 

His brother glanced up at him, pulling a twig out of his half-braided hair. “Long story. Not important now.” He went to take a step, audibly grunting when he did, remembering how badly he messed up his ankle earlier. _Shit_. He loathed appearing weak, especially in this situation. 

Schlatt frowned, clear worry on his face. “Are you okay? Seriously, what happened?” 

Techno weighed his options. 

“I’m definitely not the one we should be worrying about. Friendly reminder, you’re dead.” 

Oh. Fuck.

That came off a lot meaner than he intended. 

Schlatt’s face fell, practically recoiling into himself. He just nodded slightly, staring down at the floor. 

“That’s not... I didn’t mean—shit. I’m... I’m sorry. I’m fine, I promise. Thank... thank you, though.” 

It wasn’t very convincing. 

His eyes shared the same emptiness as the pair in front of him, a hollow look. Schlatt noticed it. Something had happened to Techno while they were gone, he knew that. But was that even something he should be worrying about? He had a point; they _are_ the dead ones. 

Techno walked into a different room, returning with a letter, a green seal on it. He offered it out in Wilbur’s direction, a solemn look on his face. It was addressed to him, his name scribbled out right under the green. 

Wilbur swore his heart stopped for a second time. 

It was unmistakable; the slight cursive, the black, messy ink—

That was his dad’s handwriting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mwah ily


	5. a letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur stared blankly ahead at the paper. 
> 
> Too many thoughts filled his head, too many to grasp. 
> 
> His hands shook, the words becoming blurry as he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YALL THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME. IM NOT DEAD YET MOTHERFUCKERS 
> 
> anywho i’m actually so sorry for taking so long. life is fuckin terrible 
> 
> no real tws for this chapter except the usual mentions of abuse and violence!

_ Wilbur,  _

_ After careful consideration, I’ve decided it was time to write to you. I’ve ignored you long enough. You don’t deserve this. Tommy and Techno don’t either. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, I know that. Still, I hope you can forgive me. I’ve missed seeing you kids together. I know you’ve been looking after Tommy, of course. He acts like he can live on his own now, but he’s still a boy, Wilbur. Don’t let him isolate himself.  _

_ Anyway. This letter should get to you within a few days of writing. Please relay the message to Techno and Tommy. Let them know I’ll be returning soon. And I haven’t forgotten about Tommy’s birthday. Wish him well for me. Sixteen is a big year. I bet he’ll outgrow both you and Techno one of these days.  _

_ Please know that I think of you three everyday. I know it’s been hard on you. But it won’t always be. Don’t let it get to you. You’re a good man. Be strong.  _

_ Signed,  _

_ Philza. _

Wilbur stared blankly ahead at the paper. 

Too many thoughts filled his head, too many to grasp. 

His hands shook, the words becoming blurry as he did. 

What did he expect? Fatherly love? Genuine care? The words felt empty, like a stranger wrote them. 

No. No, he hadn’t expected that. Not from Phil. Not at all. But _god_ , the words were cold enough to sting, even in letters.

“So. What do you think?” 

Wilbur met his brothers eyes, the mocking tone enough to snap him out of his trance. 

“When did you get this?” 

Techno was wrapping his arm in a bandage, but kept his eyes on Wilbur, muscle memory kicking in. “Three weeks ago. Haven’t seen him in person, though.” 

“How long ago did we die?”

“Almost two months ago.”

“ _Two_ months?” 

Schlatt was staring at Techno incredulously. Honestly, he had expected it, but it still terrified him to hear it confirmed. 

“Yeah. A month and twenty nine days.” 

There were so many questions Schlatt wanted to ask, so many gaps to fill. Wilbur was silent, still holding onto the letter, occasionally staring down at it to re-read it as if the outcome would be different. Did Phil... _know_?

“What happened to you, Techno?” He gestured to the arm that was mid-bandage, just barely covering the suspiciously intentional cut in his arm. 

The pink haired man let out a low grumble, sighing deeply before speaking. 

“You’ve missed a lot. Like, a lot. Quackity has lost it. I mean, completely lost it. So has Tubbo. Oh, he’s the president now, by the way. Tubbo is. You know, the child?” 

Schlatt’s mouth hung open. 

“I was replaced by a child?” 

“Yeah. Well, more like Quackity was, but, same thing. Long story. Tommy is exiled now, by the way. I can’t even find him. He’s been gone for a week now.” 

The information overwhelmed him, too many emotions to process at once. If he wasn’t already dead, he would probably be gasping for air right now.

“I... that still doesn’t answer my question. What happened to you? Are you okay?” 

Techno was now staring at the floor, eyes unfocused as he finished the last bandage, trailing his nails over the material. They were all silent for a moment, Wilbur finally coming back into reality, folding up the letter unceremoniously. 

“It’s not a pleasant story. It’s also not an important one. We have bigger issues. Much bigger ones.” 

Schlatt frowned. Why was he avoiding the question so much?

“I’m just worried, Techno, you seem like you’re in a lot of pain.”

Techno turned his back to him, rolling his sleeves back down as he took a few steps away. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Techno, seriously, who hurt you? I know you’re probably used to it, but this seems... bad. Like, really bad. Did... did Quackity do this?” 

“I said don’t worry about it.” 

Schlatt took a few steps forward, closing the distance the taller man had created, putting a cold hand on his shoulder. “Techno—?” 

“ _Stop_. Stop it.” 

The tone he used sent shivers through Schlatt’s already impossibly shaky body. Animalistic eyes met his, the gaze unyielding and nearly unreadable. Schlatt removed his hand as quickly as he placed it, backing up in retreat. Okay, he clearly hit a sensitive subject. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t... I’m sorry.” 

Wilbur was suddenly beside him, eyebrows knit together. He was more than curious, and _way_ more than worried. Techno was acting really, really weird. Out of the three brothers, he was definitely the one with the best temper. At least... he _was_. 

Techno set his jaw, turning his gaze away for a second time. “It’s fine,” he opened a drawer in the kitchen, removing a small pouch of something, “Forget about it. We have things to do.”

”What things?” His brother spoke up, clutching the folded letter with enough force to create dents in it. 

He turned back around, waving the small purple bag. “Let’s go find Tommy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOpe you all had a good/decent holiday!!! :) fankkkkk u for reading as always!!!


	6. blurry light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They only walked another fifty feet before Techno paused again, putting a hand up to gesture for them to stop as well. He was deadly still, clearly listening for something. 
> 
> A very small crunch was heard by only the pink-haired man, just to the right of them. He slowly lowered his hand, taking cautious and silent steps towards the noise. 
> 
> It was no surprise to see the figure of a frail, curled up blonde hiding behind a berry bush, jacket strewn over nearly his entire body, contorted as small as he could get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWZA. writing this at 3 am in 2021 baby. 
> 
> TW TW TW for much more graphic descriptions of abuse and ptsd in this chapter! plus a mention of suicide and suicidal thoughts!!! pls be safe

They had been searching for so long the sun had came up. 

Techno led them, compass in hand, confidently following himself more than the tool. 

“They call me the human GPS,” he assured them. Passing the same tree for the third time, Schlatt wasn’t so sure he believed him. 

Wilbur was mostly silent. He seemed to be deep in thought, falling behind often. Schlatt could feel his eyes on him the entire time. But it wasn’t the same attention as before; it wasn’t the same naive curiosity. 

He knew something. 

“He’s close,” Techno finally announced, pausing to look around, “I can tell. He has to be around here.” 

“You sure?” 

He was met with a firm nod, Techno putting away the compass. “Definitely.” 

Techno considered his options for a moment, examining the terrain, brightly lit by the morning light. After a brief moment, he strode off to the left, straight into a forest. Schlatt quickly followed, being trailed a few feet behind him by Wilbur. There was no obvious signs of life in there, at least not to Schlatt. He squinted, staring down at the vast green and occasional red flower. No animals in sight, either. 

They only walked another fifty feet before Techno paused again, putting a hand up to gesture for them to stop as well. He was deadly still, clearly listening for something. 

A very small crunch was heard by only the pink-haired man, just to the right of them. He slowly lowered his hand, taking cautious and silent steps towards the noise. 

It was no surprise to see the figure of a frail, curled up blonde hiding behind a berry bush, jacket strewn over nearly his entire body, contorted as small as he could get it. Techno took a moment to investigate, trying to get a feel for what he was about to walk into.

Tommy’s hair was a mess, unbrushed and unwashed for an unimaginably long amount of time. There was one long cut on his face, a few bruises over the exposed parts of his body. He shook in his sleep, hands just slightly blue. It was rather cold, and all he had was the jacket. Techno had to swallow the urge to wrap him in his cape. 

Not wanting to startle him too bad, he squatted down, placing as gentle of a hand as he could manage onto his shoulder. 

“Tommy?” He whispered, offering a light shake. 

No response. 

“Tommy?” A bit louder this time. 

His brother stirred, one eye opening to be met with blinding sunlight. After blinking a few times, both eyes opened, and he shifted just slightly, brain clearly processing the sight before him. 

“...Techno?” Tommy’s voice cracked, deeper than normal from just waking up, hoarse and confused. “W-...what? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

Techno pulled out the compass, waving it in front of his face. “This. Came in handy. You’re a hard one to find, you know. Had to pull quite a few strings to get this.” 

Tommy stared in obvious amazement. He just shook his head lightly, but didn’t ask any questions. He opened his mouth to speak, but something caught his eye. His gaze drifted from Techno to the two tall figures he hadn’t noticed until now.

His blood ran cold. 

You don’t really expect to see two ghosts at six in the morning. 

His eyes met with Wilbur’s first. They shared a stare with too many emotions to explain. There was absolutely nothing either could say in this situation that would even come close to explaining. 

Tommy finally tore his gaze away, meeting with Schlatt’s much, much softer eyes. He looked absolutely terrible, even for a dead guy. But Techno, despite being the alive one, somehow looked worse. 

His pink-haired brother was still, watching Tommy slowly take in the situation. 

“What... the fuck?” 

If Techno had any humor left in him, he would have laughed. An excellent question; one he could not answer at all. 

Wilbur felt his (forced) breath speed up. 

He saw Tommy under him, in a different room, a much darker one. It was cold, and empty, and someone was screaming. Tommy was bleeding. Tommy was crying. Tommy was screaming. 

Wilbur was making him scream. 

He shook his head violently, twitching alarmingly hard, bringing himself back to the present. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It just _wasn’t_. 

“It’s... kind of a lot to explain at once.” Schlatt did his best to smile, hating the feeling of his lips cracking as he did, feeling the blood slowly pool up. Tommy looked absolutely shell shocked—which is understandable. Most people would be upon waking up and seeing two dead people casually standing over you. 

“W—I... I don’t care, tell me w—“ 

“Not here , Tommy. We need to go home first. This isn’t something we can talk about in the open like this.” 

Techno’s tone left no room to argue. His little brother pushed himself up, knocking off some of the dirt that was covering his white and red shirt. He pulled the jacket on, still shivering. 

You can only hold back brotherly instinct for so long. Techno unhooked his cape, pulling it off himself and around Tommy. It was far too big on him, pooling around his ankles, the fur on it practically covering his face. He was stunned for a moment at the action, but tugged it all the way over him, wrapping himself up in it as he trailed after Techno. They shared no more conversation, no mention of it. 

They didn’t need to. It was just understood. 

Techno was his big brother. He would take care of him. He was going to protect him. 

He would never say it out loud—he could never make himself admit it. 

He loved Tommy. He loved him so, so much. How could he not? Techno had watched him grow up, had been through every single part of Tommy’s life with him. He was sixteen now, and Techno could hardly believe it. He was so grown now, so much more mature than before. It was unbelievable. 

Nothing could ever have prepared him for this. Nothing in his life could even compare to this.

Tommy was growing up. He had been through so, so much. Too much. And his brothers... 

Techno wasn’t exactly a good role model. And, well—

Wilbur was dead. Wilbur was now a ghost. Wilbur killed Schlatt and himself. Not to mention the... other parts. 

It’s not like Techno lied awake every night, unable to sleep, replaying the stories Schlatt told him, sweat forming on his brow as he tossed and turned, desperate to get the images out of his head, clawing at his throat, voices screaming in his ear, begging him to do things he didn’t want to do. Every night, every day, it replayed in his mind. 

_He held me down,_ Schlatt had said, tears in his eyes, barely able to form the words, _held me down and—_

It only stopped when he was occupied, usually with burying an axe in someone’s chest. 

About two weeks in, he had started seeing things. The voices got too loud, too heavy, so he had ventured outside, trailing into the pitch black forest with no real plan. A light had caught his eye, up ahead in the forest. He cautiously approached, up for anything that could possibly distract him from his own head. 

What he hadn’t expected to see, though, was Schlatt. Fully glowing, solid black tears running down his face, on his knees in the wet grass. It had stunned him for a moment; so he just watched, stared ahead, unable to believe it. Schlatt had noticed him first, turning and facing him, more confessions spilling out of his mouth, black pooling out with the words.

_ He told me he loved me. He told me he loved me as he ruined me. He held me as I bled out and told me I was beautiful. _

_It hurt so bad. It hurts so bad._

_ Why didn’t you help me?  _

Techno didn’t sleep for a week after that. 

The next time he saw Schlatt in that forest, he didn’t leave for hours. He sat, and he listened, and he sobbed, and the voices told him he was weak. He apologized, over and over, and felt himself unravel, praying to a shell of his friend. The voices told him he was pathetic, told him he didn’t deserve to be forgiven. 

They were right. 

Then everything went to shit. Tubbo became the president. Quackity broke. So, as broken men do, Quackity decided to try and break someone else.

It almost worked. Almost.

But nothing ever compared to the pain of finding that crater in the ground, smoke still rising. No matter how deep Quackity cut him, no matter how hard he hit him—it would never hurt like that. 

Besides, Big Q wasn’t known for thinking through his plans very much. Techno had escaped within two days, the jail cell not nearly enough to keep him. He wasn’t fond of public executions, anyway. So he had escaped, body beginning to shut down, brain wishing it would. 

When he stumbled into—not just Wilbur—but Schlatt too?

He considered going back to that cell. 

“We’re here.” His own voice surprised him. He had been on complete autopilot, guiding them back to his house with absolutely no recollection of how he got here. 

Dull blue eyes met his, staring up at him. It was familiar. Fuck, too familiar.

Techno was standing over Tommy and Tubbo, having just bust open the door, running down to them immediately. Tubbo  was completely unconscious, and Tommy was shaking him, small hands wrapped around his arm as he did. The same wide eyes had stared up, fear swimming in them. _Techno, please_ , his little brother had said, voice cracking, _please help him._

“Are... they... looking for me, Techno?” 

Lying was useless. 

“No.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTOry BACKSTORY


	7. the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The silence in the room was suffocating.
> 
> Tommy was sat at the dining table, fiddling with any random object he found in front of him, gazing into the wood like he was searching for something. 
> 
> Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to find it in the spruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!!! it’s been... a very long time and i apologize for that. i’m not super happy with this chapter but for the sake of time i needed to put it out hhhfkkd
> 
> no real TWs for this chapter except the usual sadness and mentions of past stuff!

The silence in the room was suffocating.

Tommy was sat at the dining table, fiddling with any random object he found in front of him, gazing into the wood like he was searching for something. 

Whatever it was, he couldn’t seem to find it in the spruce. 

Techno and Schlatt were in the kitchen, Wilbur a few feet away, keeping his distance, but nearby. 

After another long moment, Schlatt opened his mouth to speak, not aiming it at anyone in particular. 

“Surely they’ll... come around. Tubbo wouldn’t... he wouldn’t really execute you, would he? I mean, he won’t let that happen, I’m sure.” 

Tommy perked up at the name, finally turning his attention to the trio. His sharp blue eyes bore directly into Schlatt as he spoke, a seemingly permanent frown on his face. 

“He had no problem exiling me. So I’m sure he won’t have a problem with that either.” 

Schlatt was silent for another moment, knowing he did not have the upper hand here. “I... I just don’t understand how so much changed while we were,” he paused again, “gone.”

Tommy gave a sad shrug, gaze shifting to Wilbur for a split second before snapping back to Schlatt. “I dunno. Just did.” 

The silence fell between them again. Techno let out a defeated sigh, still leaning against the wooden counter. 

With all the weirdness and despair in his life, he had never expected... _this_ kind. The last two months were a blur of pain and confusion, replaced very suddenly by a much sharper ache and painful, painful clarity. A clarity he had never longed for.

Some things were better kept hidden. Better kept underground. 

But once they’re dug up, it’s a lot harder to bury them a second time. 

Techno stole a glance at Tommy, examining his brother for a second time. He looked so much weaker than before, so exhausted. There was no fight left in him, no desire to keep going. 

It seemed like that curse ran in the family, didn’t it? 

Speaking of family. 

“Philza,” Techno started, his voice commanding enough to startle all three of them, “He’s here, you know. In Pogtopia.” 

Wilbur and Techno met eyes.

“I’m sure he’d like to see his sons again.” 

Even Tommy felt his skin crawl at that. He made a sour face, clenching his fists. “Yeah, yeah. Yeah, we should pay him a visit. It’s been a while.” 

Techno didn’t like the tone he used, but nodded. There was countless avenues that visit could go, and very few of them were good outcomes. But at least something would change. At least Techno would have some sort of backup in dealing with this nightmare situation. His relationship with his dad was more of a partnership than a fatherly one. 

“It’s settled, then. I know where to find him. Get what you need together, and let’s go.” 

Considering none of them really had many physical belongings left, it didn’t take long before they were trailing out the door, Techno in the lead. 

He had a pretty decent idea of where to find Phil. Not... fool proof, but solid. If he was feeling as sentimental as Techno assumed, he would be there. 

Sure enough, he was right. A short walk later, they were right outside a place the brothers knew quite well. 

The family home. It’s where they all grew up, and here they were, back again for the first time in god knows how long. It was much less of a home nowadays. It felt hollow. Just a _house_. 

It stirred painful memories up for them all. But Wilbur struggled the most, and you could _tell_. He froze up, physical form shimmering, see through in more way than one. His hands shook, gaze focused on the door in genuine terror. He was really, really regretting agreeing to come. Ways to possibly get out of this tried to form in his head, but he couldn’t grasp a coherent plan. 

Before he could plead his case, Techno strode forward, landing four rough knocks on the door. That was his pattern— they all had one, and they all knew who was at the door based on it. 

There was no response for minutes. The world around them seemed to pause, bending under the emotions radiating from them. 

The wooden door slowly creaked open. 

Phil stood there, same green outfit as always, black wings idle behind him, hat tilted back on his messy blonde hair. It was hard to tell read his expression, calm and emotionless. His gaze shifted from Techno to Tommy, before he finally landed on Wilbur. 

His constant facade of calm wavered as he met the horrified eyes of his son.

“...boys?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for readingggg if u enjoyed pls consider commenting,,,,,!!! comments make my day ,,, i literally read all of them even if i don’t respond and cry over like half of them

**Author's Note:**

> THANK U FOR READING!!! i’m so excited to write more of these dudes:)) comments and kudos are so appreciated ily have a Goood Day


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